Solitude dans la foule
by Icefelis
Summary: This is about Storm. She have been alone all of her life. An orphan. A thief. And adopted child. A goddess.A xmen. But in the end, she understood. She knew. The loneliness is inside.


Hey there, this is my first x-men Evolution fanfic so bear with me please. It is about Storm. However, not much information is given on the show about her past. All I know from the show itself is that she was a goddess in Africa and that she has a sister. Maybe more was given, but I don't know about it. So, I will be writing Storm past as I see fit while using those informations. Also, some of her past will be inspired by other versions of x-men (movies, comics, etc) 

Disclaimer: I do not own x-men evolution.

This fic will threat of touchy subjects like racism, rape and child abuse. This does NOT mean that I approve of such things. 

**Solitude dans la foule**

You come into the world alone and you go out of the world alone yet it seems to me you are more alone while living than even going and coming.  
- Emily Carr, _Hundreds and Thousands: The Journals of Emily Carr_

Alone. 

She had started her life alone. An orphan. There were no sweet kisses, no lovingly sang lullabies, no maternal love for her when she was born. There was no paternal love either. There was only the harsh reality of a child without parents, without love, without protection. She had been a lost child for so long. Growing up alone. Learning alone. She had some vague memories of this time. Sometimes, a scent, a noise, a sensation would give her some recollection of this part of her life, but no more. 

She had grown up. Things became clearer then. She had been taken in by someone and had gone to Egypt with him. Goddess, maybe it would have been better not to. She had learned some things then. She had become a thief. He had ensured that. He had taught her everything he knew, like he had done the others. There were many others. Other children, other orphans. They belonged to him. He could do what he wanted with them. He had ways to make you do as he wished, ways to teach you and recompense you when you were good or punish you when you were bad. His punitions. She still had some nightmares about them. The tiny little room, not much bigger than a cupboard where they sat with their knees to their chest for there was no more room than that. The humidity, the darkness, the oh so little oxygen. He would put them in "the room", as the others called it, for as long as he wanted, with no water, no food, no light, nothing. At night, they were able to hear the bad children, the ones put in punition. They would cry, whimper, scream their voice hoarse; they would beat their tiny fists against the door and scratch at the enclosing walls. Sometimes, there would be no more noises and they would wake up the morning after to find one child gone, one child dead. They all had been in there, her more than the others. She was his pearl he had said. His best thief and the more rebellious. He had other ways to break your will when "the room" was not enough. His tools were not knifes, whips or his fists, even if he had used them sometimes. No, what he used was much more painful; he used their fears, their need to be love, their helplessness as children. But the little girl had been growing up and only children stole for him. 

Soon, she would have become something else. She was starting to become a woman. The pretty child was growing up and would continue to become a gorgeous woman. She would become his jewel he had said. She knew what would have happened to her. She had seen some of the older children disappear at night when she was supposed to be asleep. She had also seen their "master" speak with strange men and she had heard. She would have been sold to them, bringing in again some money for him, for everything they stole went to him and everything those men would pay to have her would have gone to him. She had been his pearl, but she would not be his jewel. So, she had gone away in the night, alone. It had not been a big change anyway. Even with all those children, she had been alone. She had been the pearl, the favorite of the "master", the one they pitied and hated at the same time. He had been crueler and gentler to her than any other child.

Some other people had found her then. They were nuns. Some of them had been nice to her, while others seemed to loathe her. She had always been singular with her white hair and dark complexion and that made them curious about her and distrust her at the same time. How could it be that someone looked like her? However, it had not mattered. They had fed her and found her a family in America. It had not been her choice. She was to do as said. Had she fought them? She could not recall. At this point, she had chosen to forget certain things. However, she could perfectly remember what had happened the first time she met her new family. She had been confused and scared of this new world. Again, she stood out in this place and everything was new to her; a new country, a new city and a family. Yet, she was strong, her "master" had not broken her, even with all he had done to do so for it had been his purpose. She was stronger, wiser now. Why did they adopt her? The family had only one child, a girl, and wanted another one of about the same age. 

Slowly, she had started to open up to them, to accept them as something other than strangers; she had learned to thrust them. Furthermore, a deep bond came to be between the two sisters. Blood and genetic were not important to the two teenagers; they were truly sisters and would always be. But even in this loving family, she was alone. They could not understand her, they didn't know her secrets, her past, why she woke up in the middle of the night in sweat and screaming or why she was so scared of small spaces. Even so, she had been somewhat happy, but this peace had been broken. 

She was with her sister, going out from the mall. Some young men had followed them. They had started to call them names, not because they had done something wrong, but because of the color of their skin. The girls had tried to ignore them and had walked faster. That's when the men had become violent. They had gripped her sister first, slapping her in the face. She had tried to step in but some of them had quickly stopped her. She had struggled, kicking and punching. She had learned some things in self defense from being on the streets and from her "master" after all. They had punched her on the face and in the stomach, stealing her breath away. She had fallen on the ground, holding her stomach and nose as her sister screamed at them to stop. That's when they decided they wanted to "have some fun" with them before leaving. She could still feel the anger running in her veins like burning lava. It had happened then. The sky had become covered by thick clouds. She had felt a power like no other build up in her stomach. Wind had started whipping at the trees and thunder rolling in the distance. A cold fury had taken her over. She had stood up, still bend a little in the middle from the pain, her eyes completely white, and her hair slightly floating as if electrically charged.  The men had not stopped however. Lightning had begun to fall near them again and again until one of the men was electrocuted. The others had run away, nearly screaming and the sky had slowly become sunny again. That's when she had started to understand, understand why it rained when she was sad, why there were thunderstorms when she was angry, why she felt so connected to nature. She had looked in her sister eyes and seen such fear it had broken her heart. She had packed her bags and gone away. She had been still so young, barely seventeen. 

Alone again.

She had roamed for some time across the country, discovering her powers, learning about them, taming her wild spirit so has not to cause natural disasters. Finally, she had chosen to change of country and to try to find herself. She had chosen to go to Africa. There, she had gotten in contact with tribes. They were so near nature, so respectful of it. When they had discovered her powers, they had not rejected her as she feared, but had made her their goddess. She had been a goddess coming down to help them. They had covered her in gold and jewels, had offered her the softest material, the most exquisite food. She had been respected and loved. She had been feared too, even if it was not her wish. She had given them rain clouds and sun when they had needed it. She had given them faith and comfort. They had been her people. She had learned with them, learned about herself and about the nature surrounding her. She had become a goddess and had learned to be and act like one. But a goddess is always alone among mortals. She had been alone again. 

One day, a man had come. He had talked to her about gift and about peace. He had talked about apprenticeship, about healing, about choices and about the future. She had gone with him and had become his first student. He had taught her control; he had helped her with her demons. She had regained contact with her family and they had accepted her back with open arms. It gave her hope. The world was changing; maybe some people would be able to accept those that were different from them. It would be a hard battle, however, and Xavier had trained her for it. She had become the first x-men. 

And today, today she is surrounded by people, by her nephew, by those children. She is surrounded by those children so beautiful and so different. Some unable to go out because of their physical appearance, like Kurt, others damned by their powers, like Rogue. 

"Hey, Auntie O!" Storm looked up at her nephew as he waved at her before jumping in the pool and splashing the girls basking in the sun, trying to get a tan.

Was she alone there? Sometimes. Even in this crowd of loved ones, she was alone. Always in control, always calm.  Nobody knew her secrets, her past, her hardship. Everybody must bear their burden. This was hers.

But what about love? Had she ever loved a man or a woman? She had loved someone passionately. She had loved another tenderly. She had loved a last one painfully. They were one and the same in the end. They could not be with her. Because she was different? Because of whom she was inside? Because she could never be free? Because men could not be with a former goddess for they could not dominate her? Who knows? Through her life, she had learned many things, learned from all her experiences, and furthermore, from loving. The loneliness, it was not about them, but her. She was alone inside.

Storm snapped back from her musings as she heard Kitty shriek of anger.

"I'm so like gonna kill you!" The windrider smiled slightly at the scene. A fuming Kitty was running after a laughing Kurt for a reason or another. About every inhabitants of the institute were enjoying themselves near or in the pool. Two persons, however, were not joining in the fun. The white haired African looked around and caught sight of Rogue. She looked at the girl with concern and compassion, sending a quick prayer to the Goddess to help the lonely Goth. So much pain for such a beautiful soul.

She continued her perusal.  Her eyes caught those of the Wolverine. He was sitting in the shadows, drinking one of his Canadian beers and looking at the students. He caught her eyes and nodded. She smiled at him and looked back at the students. Like her, the Wolverine was alone inside. Maybe they could meet halfway outside and inside.

The end

Too fair to worship, too divine to love.  
- Rev. Henry Hart Milman, _Apollo __Belvidere_

Alright, that was it. I hope I didn't bore you too much. Now, let me know what you think please. That would be very nice. Should I let X-men Evo fanfiction to other writers? Also, if I get a good response, I may try to write a romance about Logan and Ororo and a fic about Rogue. I have wanted to write one for a long time. However, I do not know how to write her accent. So, if someone could explain to me how to write it, the basics of it etc, I would be very grateful….

Thank you for reading!


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